When she holds out the fudge, he takes it, and turns it over in his hand. Sniffing it tells him it's sweet with a faint bitterness underneath he can't place. She's right: chocolate simply does not exist. Even the peanut smells different than what he'd expect from a natural nut.

He's expecting it to be exceptionally sweet. Even so, it surprises him, the flavour: sticky, almost cloying, and with a richness he isn't used to. His eyebrows go up. Hm.

"That's—" He licks a bit off his thumb. He doesn't dislike it, exactly, but it's clear he's got no idea what he's actually consumed and part of him is still processing this. "Unique." He looks at what's left of the square. "We haven't got chocolate."